


One year and one night

by phrynne



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Falling In Love, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, POV Second Person, Post-War, References to Depression
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-24
Updated: 2019-12-24
Packaged: 2021-02-26 02:27:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 667
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21925942
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phrynne/pseuds/phrynne
Summary: One year and one night of shared silence and dark is something powerful.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Comments: 11
Kudos: 81





	One year and one night

It’s quiet here. Silence is like a line… a lifeline. These days, it’s all you seek. The top of the tower, the dark night under. The castle disappearing high up there. Dark above, dark below. The concrete world, so far away, like a dream. Like the inside of a bell jar.

There was once a time when coming here made you think of tumbling down. Easy, you lean forward, feel the wind, wish for it. 

Drop. 

Dead. 

Gorgeous. 

There’s something about the abyss. A beauty in dark things. You always felt drawn to it. 

It scares you. 

You come here to face it every night. To look the darkness dead in its eye. You stay in the silence, you stay in the dark. It’s cold, it’s windy, it’s lonely, you take it all. It has become your ritual. 

You never drop.

*

Ignoring him is easy at first. Not because you try, but because you don’t care. 

He comes to the top of the tower every night. Sometimes he smokes. 

Like everything else in the world, he looks very far away. Unreal to you. 

He’s silent. You pay him no mind. 

The ritual is the dark. You breathe it in, breathe it out. 

It’s all that matters.

*

One year and one night of shared silence and dark is something powerful. That’s what you learn exactly one year and one night later. 

Nothing really changed, and yet- 

Staring into the dark with someone is not the same as staring into it alone. 

*

He follows you that night. Your steps on the stairs. His steps on the stairs. One year and one night and you never spoke to him. One year and one night and he never spoke to you.

You turn left to your room. You leave the door open. He closes it behind him. 

You can’t bring yourself to whisper Lumos. You stare at the darker shape of him. Standing there, in your room.

It’s the ritual, again. Pure darkness. You and him. 

*

When it happens, it’s like falling. 

Darkness erases distance, you think. That’s what it does. It brings everything close. 

He kisses you.

 _That_ erases everything else.

*

Before, you had counted the nights, one after another, thinking there was some hope at the end of it. Now you know that darkness is about losing all references. There’s no time when you’re in the dark. No space, only depth.

Your kiss is a thing of the dark. It takes you deep and away. 

It all stops for a beat. 

His face is stark dark and haunted. 

You’ve been staring at it for a year and one night. 

*

You take him to your bed. He takes off your clothes. You help him out of his.

Your hands find their way in his body. It’s easier in the dark.

He moves over you. Dark above, dark under. 

*

The first sound out of your mouth is a moan. The first thing he says is: can I?

You never thought you’d find this in the dark. 

You nod your yes. His hands are on your hips. He sinks deep into you.

*

It is the next day. There is light. It comes in from your window. It nearly blinds you. 

You take some time to adjust.

He’s still there. Sleeping beside you. His hair a mess. His back showing the faint marks of your fingernails. His body a thing of evidence. Solid, real.

*

The dark is a very strange place to be for quite so long. 

That’s what you mean to tell him the next night. 

You’re already up in the tower when you hear his steps behind you. There’s so many things you need to say to him. One year and one night and one morning of things you need to tell him. 

His voice stops your thinking. It splits the dark. 

Do you want to go somewhere else? 

You nearly laugh. Then you notice his hand, there. 

It’s not a lifeline, you know. But it’s a possibility. 

You take it. 

**Author's Note:**

> Wishing you all happy holidays, whatever your celebrations might be. Thank you for reading


End file.
